


Sheer Drop

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Acid Rain - Freeform, Angst and Feels, Battlefield, Being Lost, Blood Loss, Brotherhood, Business Trip, Caring, Childhood Memories, Doubt, Emotionally Repressed, Exploring, Flashbacks, Hiding, Honor, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Medical Trauma, Peril, Post-Battle, Pre-Earth Transformers, Rain, Separations, Serious Injuries, Stubborn Mechs, Thunderstorms, Transformers Spark Bonds, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 06:29:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4908874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dreadwing was young, when he came <em>this<em> close to losing something most precious to him, it was raining. He should have taken it as a sign...</em></em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sheer Drop

**_Planet Akalo, many centuries ago_**.

“Skyquake! Return this instant or I swear…” Dreadwing trailed off, wiping a hand down his face in a vain attempt to clear his optics of rainwater. He and his twin weren’t used to rain, accustomed to avoiding the harmful acid rain of Cybertron, but their Carrier had allowed them come along on her latest business voyage to a different planet. Here the inhabitants were soft and fleshy, the terrain was lush and green, and the rain was cleansing.

It was also _blinding_ and Skyquake had chosen now to wander off. Dreadwing was in no mood for this.

—

 ** _Planet Cybertron, present_**.

Dreadwing heard and felt the hiss of fresh acid burns on his shoulders and wings and picked himself up from where he crash-landed. They needed to find shelter _somewhere_ here in Technahar, before the storm grew worse—or before Prime decided it would be prudent to end him and his brother for good. Wincing as the droplets of acid falling began to thicken, Dreadwing limped toward his brother’s landing site, some yards away.

“We need to find cover,” he commanded, holding out a hand for Skyquake to take. He didn’t, remaining silent and very still. Dropping onto one knee, Dreadwing apprehensively waved thick smoke away from Skyquake’s wing and touched it, unable to suppress a gasp as a chunk of plating broke off in his hand. Energon buildup spilled out, revealing mangled circuit boards and torn cables.

Dreadwing had crashed because his engine had stalled. Skyquake had been _shot_ down.

With no one watching, Dreadwing felt free to panic, flinging himself down and gathering what he could of Skyquake’s frame underneath him, shielding the wound. If the thickening acid rain ignited the energon, Skyquake certainly wouldn’t survive.

The need for cover had just tripled.

—

 ** _Akalo_**.

Neither of the twins had been happy when their Carrier had gestured off into the deeper vegetation—where, Dreadwing pointedly noted, they would be out of audial range—and had told them to ‘go play’. Nearly to their fourth frame changes, Dreadwing and Skyquake had been somewhat insulted by the words but had obeyed anyway.

“Apparently we can still play,” Dreadwing grumbled, “but cannot attend to simple business affairs.”

Skyquake hadn’t answered the rhetoric, trudging carefully along and studying the blossoms peeking up out of the green foliage. Dreadwing followed his brother’s trail, though not meticulously, and swiped disinterestedly at the surrounding shrubbery. The rain had taken him off guard and he glanced around, finding green plants in every direction but not green plating.

That had been at least a joor ago, Dreadwing realized, and either Skyquake was blending in with the landscape or he had simply disappeared.

—

 ** _Cybertron_**.

Dreadwing sprinted, hunched over, across Technahar, keeping himself between Skyquake and the acid as best he could. Finally a one-story building came into view. It had partially collapsed in on itself and was coated in rust, but it was bravely holding its own against the terrible rain.

Maneuvering the both of them into the hut, Dreadwing finally turned his attention to his comm. link. “Dreadwing calling Lord Megatron. Please respond.”

He received nothing: no reply, not even static. The blue Seeker waited for a full minute before hanging up and trying to swallow his sense of helplessness. There were more important things to think of right now. Releasing all of his vents, Dreadwing pressed a hand over the gouge in Skyquake’s wing. He was still unconscious, losing far too much energon far too quickly and Dreadwing had a sickening feeling that he himself would never make it if he attempted to fly for help in this storm.

Conclusion: he had to keep Skyquake alive until Megatron came for them; Dreadwing had no doubt he would.

—

 ** _Akalo_**.

Dreadwing wasn’t even sure which way to turn for the way to their Carrier. Even if he could find his way to her, he doubted she would be able to assist. Sometimes he doubted she even cared, but that line of thinking wasn’t helpful right now. He contracted his vents to shout again and just as he did, he felt a cold trickle of fear reach his spark, along with words.

_~:Dwing…I need help.:~_

Dreadwing couldn’t keep ahold of his own fear any longer—it coursed through their bond as he took off in a random direction. _~:I’m en route, Skyke. Call out!:~_ he commanded through the channel as he paused at bare ground, preparing to jump over a gap just as Skyquake audibly shouted.

“Brother!”

Understanding dawned. Glancing down into the crevasse, Dreadwing could just make out Skyquake’s optics, the same deep blue as his own plating, staring up at him from the deep.

—

 ** _Cybertron_**.

“Dreadwing…”

The blue Seeker startled, jerking his helm around to find Skyquake staring at him through half-shuttered optics.

“Skyquake,” he burst out, clutching his twin’s shoulder and stilling him as he tried to sit up. “Stop your movement. You’re bleeding out.” Unable to resist as he propped Skyquake’s feet onto his knees, he added sharply, “Turning your back to the Prime was one of the most foolish tactical decisions you’ve ever made.”

Skyquake didn’t even flinch at the insult, murmuring, “Where are we? Has the Prime been destroyed?”

“No,” Dreadwing admitted, refraining for both their sakes from explaining that he had followed Skyquake’s example and had fled. “Currently we’re taking shelter from an acid storm. Ugh—” He tensed abruptly, a hand rising to the dome of his chest. “Skyquake, you—you’re projecting,” he ground out.

“Mm…sorry…”

Their shared pain eased slightly as Skyquake slipped away again, but Dreadwing felt none of the relief he wanted. Clenching his teeth, he radioed Megatron again, receiving no answer.

—

 ** _Akalo_**.

Dreadwing ex-vented slowly, spreading himself prostrate and stretching an arm into the crevice. Skyquake started to lift his own hand and then wavered, managing to look both embarrassed and unnerved.

“Jump,” Dreadwing urged. “I’m not far from you…” He trailed off as he glanced down and saw the reason for Skyquake’s hesitation: between them lay a gap of utter blackness, its depth only hinted by how far into it the rain fell.

“Jump, brother,” Dreadwing repeated after a long series of kliks, trying to keep his voice even, encouraging. “Grab me with both hands and I swear I won’t let you fall.”

Skyquake steeled himself, the fear in his optics passing into the shadow of determination, and he lunged, latching onto Dreadwing’s hand with one of his own. The blue twin grunted in disbelief, rooting the edges of his feet into the wet, crumbling terrain.

“Skyquake!” he shouted furiously. “Both hands, I said! Give me _both_ of your hands!”

Skyquake’s feet pedaled air and his vocals shot upward, matching Dreadwing’s as he screamed back, “I _can’t!_ ”

“Why not?”

Venting heavily, Skyquake lifted his other hand and showed off a sparkling silver ore. “Th-the ore Carrier is searching for,” he growled, his hand crushing Dreadwing’s in its grip. “You have to deliver it to her. You must…attend to business. Simply, honorably.”

Dreadwing leaned further down, clasping Skyquake’s wrist with his other hand. His feet he dug further into the earth; he was holding them up by the sheer strength of his legs. “There is _no honor_ in letting you fall,” he spat.

“I’ll throw it up,” Skyquake groaned, wincing when the joints of his fingers squeaked. “And then you can pull me up after it.”

“The momentum of your throw will take you right out of my hands,” Dreadwing snapped. “No ore is worth this.”

“It’s her livelihood. It’s ours… _yours_. I want to honor that.”

It was astounding to Dreadwing that Skyquake could still argue valid points while dangling by his fingers over a sheer drop with no foreseeable bottom. It could go to the center of this world for all he knew and yet he still refused rescue! For a _rock_. Why couldn’t he see that Dreadwing was arguing for so much more? Finally giving in, he let his shield of adrenaline collapse, let the fear and anger and pleading bridge the gap. Skyquake shivered a little and Dreadwing tried to tell himself that none of it was his grip weakening.

“Skyquake, I have no livelihood if I am not whole,” he whispered. “Frag honor to the Pit. I’m going to save you.”

He was unsure if Skyquake had heard him, but even if he hadn’t, the ore slipped from his hand, falling soundlessly for a very long time. Relieved, Dreadwing took the hand Skyquake offered him and hauled him up to safe ground, filthy and exhausted—and still quite lost—but together.

—

 ** _Cybertron_**.

“My lord,” Dreadwing began again, his fingers, sticky with energon, jammed into his audial for what seemed and very well could have been the hundredth time. “ _Again_ I request pickup. My brother is badly wounded, losing energon rapidly. Without treatment—”

Before he could finish his sentence, he saw a brief flash from outside their little encampment. Dreadwing looked up anxiously, wondering if it had simply been a lightning flash, and then he saw it: a space bridge, waiting for them.

Technically he shouldn’t lift Skyquake in his condition, but the bridge had materialized some yards away. Had that been done on purpose, to force them to scramble through without any semblance of pride? Dreadwing wasn’t sure, but whatever the reason, he was willing to accept anything he received.

Cradling Skyquake’s limp, cold frame close, Dreadwing rose to his feet, steeled himself and bolted, emerging on the other side to find the medical bay. Soundwave stood off to the side with Shockwave, awaiting them. Lord Megatron was nowhere to be seen.

“Thank you,” Dreadwing murmured as he passed the two silent mechs, handing Skyquake over to the medics. He nodded decisively, watching the procedures, and then turned, finding another Seeker smirking behind him.

“Oh! Dreadwing. I see you returned safely,” Starscream greeted, smug as he could be. “Yes, we’d almost forgotten about you and—”

“Do not toy with me, Starscream. I still have blood on my hands and until I am told my brother will survive, I have no qualms about adding yours,” Dreadwing stated coolly, shoving past Starscream toward the medical washroom, where he did his best to clean himself of Technahar’s grime and the doubt it had stirred in him of Megatron’s honor.


End file.
